It All Depends On What She Cooks Like
by BTMAY
Summary: Chien-Po loves food. At the heart of his love of food though, is a different love, the love he feels for someone very important to him.  Not a romance.


It All Depends On What She Cooks Like

Chien-Po always woke up early. It had started in his early childhood, when the enticing aromas wafting from his mothers kitchen would draw him from his slumber. He would sit in the kitchen watching as she cooked, mesmerized by the calm tranquility that always came over his mother when she was cooking. He knew, even then, that times were hard, but whenever his mother was cooking it was like all of her worries were lifted away.

When his mother was finished cooking, the delicious food was set on the table and they would eat. She was happy then too, but gradually the sadness and the worry would come back. She worked very hard around the house, cooking, cleaning, sewing and mending.

"Why do you work so hard mother?" he had asked once.

"Because there are so many things to get done my son" she had replied.

"Why do you not ask father to help you?" he inquired.

"Your father works very hard every day so that he can buy us all the things we need my dear one, so I must make sure that when he comes home that it is a relaxing and calm environment." she explained patiently despite having more important things to do.

"Well then I will help you mother." He had earnestly replied.

"My dear sweet son, you help me every day just by being the good boy that you are."

He had always spent a considerable time with his mother, but after that day he spent as much time with her as he could. He made sure to always be kind and good, and to take good care of his younger siblings, because he wanted to make her happier. He knew nothing could compare to how happy she was when she was cooking, but if he could help her, in even the smallest way, he would do it.

When his mother died, Chien-po never wanted to step foot in a kitchen ever again. However, his father and his younger siblings still needed to be fed, and he knew his mother would be disappointed in him if he didn't do what he could for the family. She had made it seem so easy, but Chien-po quickly learned he had no talent for cooking. He knew all of her recipes, had committed them to memory without even noticing, and yet none of his dishes could hold a candle to hers.

His father, who had taken to drinking after his mother died, was fond of pointing out all the flaws in the meals Chien-po cooked. He never could get them just right, there was always too much salt, or the meat was overcooked, or the rice was cold. Chien-Po knew his father was just sad, and that he was right, but that didn't stop the anger from swelling up inside of him at some of his fathers' harshest remarks. Instead of acting on that anger though, he would quietly hum a little tune his mother used to sing to him, and the anger would leave him and next time Chien-Po prepared a meal he would try his best to correct the mistakes his father had pointed out.

When the neighborhood children had taken to teasing him, for his poorly mended clothes, his chubby features, and his fathers, now well known, drinking problem, Chien-Po had used the same tactic. It seemed to him that there was no amount of anger that the tune he had learned from his mother couldn't ease.

He had thought that the sadness he felt over his mother's death would ease over time, but the pain never left him.

When his father had informed him that he had been enlisted in the Imperial army, Chien-po hadn't been happy about it. Going to war didn't sound like the type of thing his mother would have wanted her sweet son to do. The only upside he could find to the idea of leaving his home for the horrors of war was that at least he wouldn't have to cook.

Chien-po smiled as he watched the sun rise over the dew covered grass of the training camp. What he had found here, made not having to cook seem so trivial. Here he had found friends. Here the sadness he had held in his heart for so long, here it was dissipating, evaporating into the atmosphere just like the dew drops in the early morning sun.

AN: This wasn't beta'd (because I don't have one) so sorry for any mistakes I missed. I've always loved the characters from Mulan. Chien-po, Ling, and Yao are my favorites, and I always wished that the movie told us more about them. I'm thinking about maybe writing one about Ling and another one for Yao… but I'm not sure. Alas, I digress, I really hope you liked it, and even if you didn't, please leave a review I would love to get any and all feedback you may have for me.


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